Post by SHADE. :D on Sept 28, 2007 13:55:14 GMT -5
The water was dark as the eclipsed sun; dark as midnight, dark as coal. The ripples that gently stirred the surface could be likened to memories, wandering, searching for their long lost loved one's. The day was chilly, in a brisk sort of fashion. Frost had not yet fallen by a generous carpet of golden red autumn leaves covered the grass. The trees stood regally over the water, scarlet rowan and trailing willow. The willow branches swayed in the wind, their fingertips brushing the unfeeling water, lifting from globules to throw them upon the banks. The wind was as cold as ice, cutting through fur and flesh to chill right down to the bone. There was an air of winter in the aura of the day, shifting and sighing and gliding slowly around every tree. A constant clock, ticking away time as though it were as unimportant as the fallen leaves. Tick. A life fails. Tock. Another begins. The wheel of time, forever spinning like a silver flare, invisible to all but those with imagination.
A small body, coated in fur of creamy ginger, crouched beside the water. The cat's stance was one of misery, uncertainty. The limbs were hunched together, pulled in close to the chest and flanks as though an ambush would strike in ever he let his guard down. The tail, long and supple, twitched slowly from side to side. Each moment the movement became more liquid, until the tail moved with a flowing grace. Time. There it was again. That word. Four simple letters, yet it was the most powerful thing in the world. The hands of time, large as the planets, yet as invisible as sound, forever moving. Never would they wait on something, or somebody. Never would they leave time for greif. Hyenapaw's eyes, curved shapes filled with deepest green, were clouded with confusion. Where would his life lead? Would time treat him kindly? One question flowed trough his mind, over and over.
Should he follow his honour or his heart?
A small body, coated in fur of creamy ginger, crouched beside the water. The cat's stance was one of misery, uncertainty. The limbs were hunched together, pulled in close to the chest and flanks as though an ambush would strike in ever he let his guard down. The tail, long and supple, twitched slowly from side to side. Each moment the movement became more liquid, until the tail moved with a flowing grace. Time. There it was again. That word. Four simple letters, yet it was the most powerful thing in the world. The hands of time, large as the planets, yet as invisible as sound, forever moving. Never would they wait on something, or somebody. Never would they leave time for greif. Hyenapaw's eyes, curved shapes filled with deepest green, were clouded with confusion. Where would his life lead? Would time treat him kindly? One question flowed trough his mind, over and over.
Should he follow his honour or his heart?
